Spooky things

When people talk about paranormal things, it's usually ghosts and apparitions, strange noises in the night, haunted houses and the like.
Let's assume ghosts exist.
(They do. Ask my horse. He sees them everywhere. Mostly disguised as buckets.)
How would you know if you've seen a ghost? Would you even be able to tell?
Wandering ghosts don't really bother me. I grew up in a house that's about 400 years old. Things generally go bump there and you learn to ignore it. You certainly won't explain it.
I admit it gets a little creepy when you're lying in bed, trying to sleep, and you can feel the wall move. What can I say? Buildings live and breathe. My old place happens to flex its muscles occasionally, as well.
People keep seeing ghosts at night, but I think that's more because of folktales and an inherent fear of the dark, than actually being bound to only rattle chains after midnight.
All the paranormal investigation programs on TV seem to rely on night time encounters.
Makes no sense to me. All the stuff I've seen mostly happened in broad daylight. Why would a ghost only show up at night? I doubt they know what time of day it is, and I sincerely hope there are no alarm clocks in the afterlife. That would kinda suck. I also think it might be tricky to wear a watch when you don't have a solid body.
So how would you know if you've seen a ghost? Short of a long-dead peg-legged pirate appearing in your kitchen at lunch time going "Arrr matey!"--I think you could walk right past one and not know. People are out and about during the day. We think nothing of seeing complete strangers walking through our local pub.
It's when they show up in the locked pub after hours, we start to consider them as ghosts. Okay, you might notice someone walking through the bar, as in, right through the wood, but during the day you'd likely dismiss it as a figment of your imagination. After all, that can't happen...right?
Why not?
Why would a ghost only show up after midnight? And why would a ghost only wear period clothing? Surely modern ghosts exist if historical ones do?

I find it intriguing how easily we dismiss something in broad daylight, and freak out over it at night.
What do you think?

Watch out for "Watch Me"!

Some of you may know I'm a writer. *cough*
Well, after the howling success of "Howl", you now get to watch out for "Watch Me", the second of the Pack Justice series.
It wasn't intended as a series, but when I submitted Tiffy's story...my publisher insisted I create a series title.
So... Pack Justice it is.
I was going to talk about something else today, but then I thought well...we're soooo close to the release, I may as well give a bit of a headsup.

Here we go.
I can't give you a direct link, as it's not released yet. (Roll on, 3rd September!)
You can preorder it on the Nook, but the Kindle version isn't up until the 3rd.

So what is "Watch Me" about?
Well, any of you who have read "Howl" will have met Tiffy.
She was the troublemaker kid Zalin was trying to find after she ran away.
Now some time has passed and Tiffy has grown up some. She's still a troublemaker and craves nothing more than independence.
Then she claps eyes on Keric, and independence slides down the list in favor of bagging herself a hottie. Keric isn't terribly impressed. He has other things on his mind and those "things" take a turn for the worst when Tiffy enters the picture.
Not to mention, Keric comes with secrets to complement Tiffy's baggage. Little do they know that there are events in their past which could destroy their future.

Did I whet your appetite a little? I hope so.
I really enjoyed writing Tiffy and Keric's story, and revisiting Zalin and Lucia made it twice the fun. Yes, you will meet those two again.
There are no spoilers in the book, and I won't put any here either. You don't have to read Howl to enjoy Watch Me, both are standalone.

Keep your eyes open for some giveaways, too!
I will announce them on my Facebook page, so make sure you check. :)

A unicorn is just a horse with a horn...

Please form an orderly line. Stop pushing at the back!
(The second from the right is mine, in case you're wondering...)

So yeah, most people know I'm a horsey person. And if you didn't, well...then you know now. :)
I tend to spend my time with my 10 year old Paso Fino gelding. He's dapple gray and would make a great looking unicorn -- but I'm glad he isn't, because he doesn't watch where he puts that noggin of his. Adding a horn would only get me skewered every five seconds, which isn't my mission in life.

Most people think a unicorn is just a horse with a horn. Pretty, but nothing more than a horse.

However, there are characteristics which differentiate unicorns from horses -- and it's more than just the horn.

Of course, there is the horn. That's a given. But there is also...the beard. Yes, unicorns have a beard. A goatee, like...well, a goat.
They have a long, slender tail, with a tuft at the end. Very much not like a horse's tail.
And then...then there are the cloven hooves. Horses don't have those, either. Cows do. Goats do. Sheep do.
And unicorns do.
Color of those hooves is usually gold, as is the horn. Either that, or pure mother-of-pearl white.

So there you have the major differences between a unicorn and a horse.
Except, of course, unicorns don't exist.
Or...
...do they?
I've seen images of one-horned deer. :) Perhaps it was something like it, sparking off people's imagination.

You tell me... :) I just think they are gorgeous.

While my next book doesn't involve a unicorn...the one I'm working on right now does.
No idea if it will ever see the light of day, but hey...stranger things have happened!

Command Performance

When I was asked if I wanted to write one of the Gatekeeper novels (Lyrical Press), I jumped at it.
"I can do this!" I beamed. "No problem!"
I had the contract and the cover before I ever wrote a single word.
I sat down, an idea in my head, and wrote--and then I scrapped ALL of it. 8,000 words.
No biggie. It happens.
I started over. Tweaked the idea and rewrote the beginning--only it still didn't work.
More scrapping.
24,000 words this time.
I was tearing my hair out.
Here I was, 32,000 words written, and I had...nothing. Zip, nada, zilch, squat.
The monsters weren't playing ball. At least not with me.
It began to get scary.
I'd signed a contract. I had a cover. I had a release date (Feb 2013). We had a webpage already.
What I didn't have...was a story.
What if... I couldn't do it?
That's not the kind of "What if..." I want to be asking myself.
Worse, the edits for Watch Me had to be done as well.

Deadlines create pressure, we all know that. It gets so much worse when you sit there and draw a total blank. It's a scary situation. I hate letting people down, and the last ones I want to let down are my fellow Gatekeeper authors, and the publisher. We all cope differently with the stress, and some deal with it better than others. I can do deadlines and I don't really mind the stress, but I panic when I stare at a blank page and know I have to come up with something worth reading.
And that's the kicker.
It has to be worth reading. 
I can write day in day out, but that doesn't mean it's publishable, or I'd want anyone to read it. I don't like half-assed attempts at a good story. I want only my best out there, so I had to come up with something I could stand behind 100%.
That's why those 32k were thrown out. They simply weren't "It".
I can rescue most of it, but it'll take a major rewrite and--see above--I don't rewrite very well. It never works for me. So the original story may never see the light of day.
I beat myself up when I can't come up with something good, and that makes things worse. My muse goes into a major sulk and takes a vacation. Nothing helps. It's not writers block, it's a lack of enthusiasm for the story I'm writing. When that hits me, I ditch the project and start over.
Which is exactly what I did with Caedir. I threw out not just the writing I'd already done, but the entire storyline as well. Plot, characters, locations -- everything. Not even his looks stayed the same, and I killed off the human heroine while I was at it. She didn't retain her name, either.
I completely divorced myself from the previous attempt.

Don't ever be afraid to admit to yourself that what you've written isn't what you want anyone to see. We grow with the decisions we make, but we grow a lot more from the really hard ones, than from tiptoeing around the truth.
If it sucks, it sucks.
It really is that simple. If you think it sucks--why would you struggle to finish it? Your heart isn't in it, and it'll only get worse. Get some distance first, and if--when you come back--it still sucks...ditch it, take a deep breath, and start over.

I have the story now. I'm about 5-10k from the end, but I won't be releasing that breath I've been holding since March until I put the last word on paper.

Yep, it's Smurf Central 'round here.

You can find out for yourself if I came up trumps when Caedir is released in February 2013.

Good things happen to bad people

Yeah, I know that's not how it goes. But I think it's even more interesting when good things happen to bad people, instead of bad things happening to good people.
We all love a good villain, and many of us love to hate them. I often think the villain is a neglected subspecies in a book. Your bad guy needs to be as well developed as the hero and heroine.
And once you got your badass meany...let good things happen to him. It will stack the odds in his favor -- and usually against your hero.
In Howl, poor Zalin handed the villain the ultimate piece of information -- and enabled him to carry out his master plan without interference. He had no one to blame but himself, and it seriously screwed up his day.
Yep, all those good things happening for your bad guy...give the book a whole new dimension. It keeps your hero out of step, makes things that much more difficult and dangerous, and thus keeps the reader groaning right along with the unfortunate hero.
Imagine you have a valuable commodity or important information which is needed by the hero to save the heroine, but in order to get it, he has to jump a few hoops -- and he's not the only one after it.
Let him get to the safe--five minutes after the bad guy got the map out of it. Let the bad guy get hold of the only vehicle for rent. The only guide who knows the jungle. The key to the dungeon. Let him find things or be handed things just before the hero gets there. He's having all the luck, while the hero struggles to keep up, putting the heroine's ultimate safety more and more at risk.
Let the villain walk away with the only thing able to save her.
Your hero will have to be resourceful and determined, even in the face of adversity. It gets even better if both the hero and the villain have the same goal...saving the heroine. But while the hero does it for (more or less) selfless reasons...the villain might do it to gain something she has and couldn't give two hoots about what ultimately happens to her.

What I'm trying to say is, it doesn't always have to be the same old, same old. And who says you can't start out with two villains -- and no hero? Why not make your villain the hero?

I'm bored with the same format. :) I think we need to shake it up some.

I'm working on a story at the moment where the good guy is also the bad guy... Let's see if I can pull it off. :)

What do you like about villains and heroes?

Silke grew up in Germany and is used to things going bump in the night -- and it wasn't always the acrophobic cat, or someone hitting their head on a low beam on the ceiling.
She writes paranormal romance, usually at night, and blames Anne Stuart to this day for all her ambitions and strange stories, after reading one of her books.
These days the only thing going bump at "oh-dark-thirty" is her -- usually when she smacks into the sofa while creeping to the kitchen for another cup of coffee.
Silke likes to hear from her readers.
Feel free to contact her via her blog at http://www.evilauthor.com, follow her on Twitter, look her up on Goodreads or become a friend on Facebook and G+.



Her books Howl and Smitten are available at all major ebook retailers.

Howl by Silke Juppenlatz

Hi there!

I figured it would be fun to write a little Halloween story, rather than blog about Halloween.

Let’s face it, everyone is doing it.

Zalin is the hero of “Howl”, and Tiffy, his sister-in-law, is the heroine of “Watch me” which is currently under contract to Lyrical Press.

Enjoy!

Life sucked.

Tiffy grimaced and glanced at Zalin, who seemed oblivious to her expert pumpkin carving.

A critical look at the mutilated pumpkin in front of her made Tiffy revise her opinion. Okay, maybe not expert. Definitely unique though. She pushed the pumpkin toward Zalin. “Whatcha think?”

The Alpha didn’t turn and kept cooing to the infant on his lap. “Very nice.”

“You didn’t even look!”

“I have eyes in the back of my head,” Zalin defended himself.

“You’re no fun anymore,” Tiffy grumbled. “Ever since Connor was born, you’ve turned into a Dad.”

Zalin laughed, the faint lines at the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I am a dad.”

“That’s not what I mean. You used to do fun stuff, and now you don’t anymore.” She sighed. They used to go running, but he wasn’t even doing that anymore. Well, not with her, at least. Maybe running with his seventeen year old sister-in-law was beneath him, now he’d taken over as Alpha. “Are you going trick or treating with me?” No reply came. Tiffy rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’ll ask Lucia.”

“I’d go with you, but I have to check out the old Ferguson house.” He shrugged. “Besides, don’t you have a party to go to?”

Yeah, there was a party. Three, actually. Only she hadn’t been invited to any of them. It was as if she’d contracted some deadly disease. Ever since Zalin had taken over, her life had tanked. None of the guys asked her out. None of the girls invited her for anything fun. She was alone most of the time, but did anyone notice? Hell no.

“Tiffy?”

Maybe it was time he knew how badly he was screwing up her life. “Didn’t get invited.”

“Oh.”

He looked guilty, and so he should. It was all his fault.

Zalin turned to face her. “You sure you want to go begging for candy?”

“What choice do I have? It’s either that, or sit at home.” She’d be damned if she stayed home. No chance.

“Well…you could come with me. I could use another set of eyes.” Zalin shrugged. “You could call some friends and we’ll go over to check it out.”

The Ferguson house had stood empty for years. There were rumors it was haunted, but she’d never seen anything when she’d crept around in there. Granted, it had been daytime, but as far as she knew there wasn’t anything spooky out there. “Sounds boring.”

“Boring? Maybe. But I had reports of weird stuff happening out there, so I better check it out.”

Considering they were werewolves, how weird could it be? Tiffy’s interest perked. “What kind of strange stuff?”

“Odd noises, windows and doors moving when there is no wind, figures creeping around after dark.”

Becca might want to come. She was always up for spooky stuff. Tiffy snatched her phone off the table. Maybe Arnie wanted to come too. “I’ll get a posse together. If they’re not all going to the party.”

Two hours later they stood outside the derelict building, Zalin leading the gang of six to the creaky old doors. Tiffy had her arm hooked through Becca’s, Leslie squabbled with Gary and Arnie, while Tommy brought up the rear.

Zalin held up his hand. “All right. I want Tiffy and Gary to head upstairs. Leslie and Tommy take the basement. Becca and Arnie, you check out the back rooms. Stay together.”

“What are you doing?” Tiffy grinned at him. “You’re going to sit on your butt and let us do all the work?”

“I’m heading up to the attic. If anyone sees anything, I want you to back off and tell me. Do not engage anything or anyone you see.” He jerked his head toward the door. “Go. Be careful.”

Flashlights cast eerie shadows on the walls as the pairs headed off to their respective areas.

Tiffy slanted a quick look at Gary. He swaggered toward the door and she sighed with appreciation. Gary was so hot. All long limbed grace and smoldering brown eyes. Way out of her league, but she didn’t mind being teamed up with him. At least she’d have a nice view all night, even if there wasn’t anything here.

They made their way upstairs, into a bedroom, but it was empty. “Nothing here.”

Gary shrugged. “It was a stupid idea, anyway.”

Tiffy’s heart sank. They’d blame her if they didn’t have fun.

A loud bang sounded downstairs, followed by another -- then another. Suddenly all the doors slammed at once and both Tiffy and Gary almost jumped out of their skin. Windows flew open, then smashed into their frames, the broken glass either dropping to the floor, or rattling loudly. Tiffy’s flashlight hit the ground and shut off.

“What was that?” Tiffy whispered, her heart beating like a drum.

“No idea,” Gary whispered back, picking up her flashlight. He flicked the switch. “Dead. We’ll have to use mine.”

Both flinched when a low moan filled the silence. A scream from the basement followed.

“Shit.” Gary grabbed Tiffy’s arm. “That sounded like Leslie.”

“Oh my God, Zalin was right. There is something here.” Tiffy shuddered. “Zalin? Zalin!”

“I’m in the attic,” came the muffled reply. The door rattled upstairs. “Can’t get out, the door is stuck or locked. Are you guys all right? I heard a scream.”

“We’re okay.” Tiffy called out. “We’ll check on the others and get you out.”

“Be careful!”

Oh she planned on it. What started as a boring excursion suddenly seemed a lot more dangerous than any of them had thought.

“Probably just someone pranking us.”

Gary didn’t look too certain about it, and she assumed he’d said it for her benefit. “When have you ever heard Leslie scream like that?”

His face lost all color, and at first Tiffy thought it was because of Leslie’s scream, then she followed his gaze and froze. A ragged, rotting arm groped through the broken window on the landing, trying to find the latch. “That…that looks like…”

“A zombie.” Gary drew her backwards. “Can’t be real.”

“Let’s get downstairs.” Tiffy grabbed his arm and dragged him down the stairs.

They were met by Becca and Arnie half way down.

“We can’t get to Leslie and Tommy. Tried, but--” Becca stared at Tiffy. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s a zombie trying to get in upstairs.” Gary squared his shoulders. “Zalin is stuck in the attic. We’re on our own.”

“A zombie?” Arnie’s eyes almost bugged out of his head.

“I saw it too.” Tiffy looked up the stairs. “We should get the others out. Something’s not right here.”

“Zombies? Seriously?” Becca pulled Tiffy to the side. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No.” She glanced out of a window, noting figures lurking in the distance. “Oh man. Look out there.”

Her friends rushed to the window.

“Crap. There’s tons of them.” Arnie drew back. “What are we going to do?”

“First we need to get Leslie and Tommy out. Then we get Zalin.” Becca started for the basement door.

Another scream, far more terrified, came from down there.

Tiffy rushed to the door and started to pull. “Help me!”

The other three immediately worked on the door. Gary let go and stepped back. “I think I saw an old axe or something when we went upstairs.”

They’d need it. The door was stuck solid and no amount of pulling helped to get it open. “Get it.” Tiffy banged on the door. “Leslie? You guys okay down there?”

Footsteps sounded on the other side. “There are freaking zombies trying to get in down here!”

Tiffy breathed a sigh of relief at hearing Leslie’s voice. “We’ll get you out. Gary went to get an axe.”

“Fuck! Run!” Gary came bolting down the stairs, brandishing an axe. “It’s right behind me!”

The four of them bolted into the kitchen, barricading the door.

“Now what?” Arnie leaned against the rotting counter behind him. “Man…zombies. I don’t freaking believe it.”

“We should shift. We’re stronger then.” Becca pulled her jacket off.

“You think I want to bite that rotting shit hanging off them?” Gary shuddered. “No thanks.”

“Okay, can we focus here? We have to get Les and Tommy out. Can’t do that when shifted, so going wolf is out. Can one of you distract the zombie who went after Gary?” Tiffy looked from one to the other. No volunteers. Figured. “All right, I’ll do it. You guys just make sure you work fast.”

Arnie dragged the table away from the door and opened it a crack to check the other side. “All clear.”

“Turn the flashlights off or they’ll know where we are.” Gary suggested. “We can see in the dark anyway.”

They tiptoed outside, but there was no sign of the zombie.

“Get at the door. I’ll distract it if it comes back.” Tiffy trembled, worried she might not be fast enough. “Exactly what happens if a zombie bites you?”

“No idea.” Gary slammed the axe into the door. “Don’t let it. It can’t be good.”

Idiot. Tiffy glared at him. A moan upstairs made her spin around. “It’s back.”

“Braaainssss”

They looked at each other. Tiffy snorted. “Really. Brains? That’s so cliché.”

Arnie hugged her. “Don’t worry, Tiff. We won’t let it eat your brains.”

Tiffy grinned. “Good. Now get them out. I’ll run up and distract it.”

Gary kept hacking at the door, the others pulled the wood away. Tiffy ran upstairs and went looking for the zombie.

There was no sign of it. Since she was up already, she tried the attic door. “Zalin? You okay?”

“Yeah, what’s going on?”

“Zombies. Trying to get in. The others are working on getting Les and Tommy out. I’m distracting the zombie up here.”

“Zombies? They don’t exist, Tiff.” Zalin sounded concerned. “Can you get the door open?”

“Tried, it’s stuck. And they do exist.” Tiffy backed away from the attic door. “We’ll get you when we got the other two.”

A thud made her turn. “Oh shit. It’s back.”

“Tiff, be serious, they--”

“I gotta go, Zalin. It wants my brains. Look out of the window. There were at least twenty out there.” She bolted down the stairs, waving her arms at the staggering creature. She couldn’t see much more than outlines in the dark. “Hey! Over here!”

It lumbered toward her.

Tiffy backed off, mindful of the rooms behind her. She didn’t want to be trapped somewhere. Downstairs she heard wood breaking and hoped they’d finally got through the door. Then a scream that sounded like Becca, made her blood freeze. Another scream followed, this one distinctly male, but she couldn’t tell which of the two guys it was. The sound of running feet followed. Damn. What was going on down there?

“Tiff! Get down here!” Gary shouted up the stairs. “We got them out!”

“Uh…yeah.” She stared at the creature between her and the staircase. “That’s not gonna happen.”

Five of them came running up the stairs. “Over here!”

The zombie turned and went after them. Tiffy raced down the stairs, past the slow moving zombie. “Go! Kitchen!”

“No!” All five of them cried out at the same time.

Tiffy screeched to a halt. “What?”

“Full of zombies,” Arnie informed her.

“Shit. Where, then?”

“Upstairs. They can’t get in the windows there.” Gary led the way, avoiding the zombie still on the stairs.

The others followed suit and ran into one of the bedrooms. Arnie, Tommy and Gary wedged the wardrobe against the door.

“Man, this is nuts.” Leslie dropped on the dusty bed. “Some Halloween.”

Becca giggled, then started to laugh. “And here I was thinking the only zombie I’d have to deal with tonight is Henk after he’s had a few too many beers.”

All of them burst out laughing at the mention of Henk, who really did turn into something much like a zombie when he got drunk.

“At least he doesn’t want to eat our brains.” Tommy shuddered. “Where the hell did they all come from? How come no one knew?”

“Maybe Zalin knew?” Arnie grimaced. “Maybe we’re bait? I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“No.” Tiffy glared at him. “He’d never put us in danger if he’d known. He’s not like that.”

“Says you.” Arnie scoffed.

“Yeah. Says me. He is not like that.” Tiffy took a step toward him.

“Hell, for all we know your dad is one of the zombies.” Arnie spat.

Tiffy reeled backward as if he’d hit her.

“Arnie!” Becca got up and glared at him.

“You bastard! That was uncalled for.” Leslie jumped in.

Tears stung Tiffy’s eyes and she turned away. Her father couldn’t be a zombie. No way. But now Arnie had put the thought into her mind and she dreaded to find he was one of those creatures.

“Guys, we need to figure out what to do, not make stupid remarks,” Gary grumbled. “But yeah, that was uncalled for, Arnie.”

A scratching sound outside the door made everyone turn to look.

“Shit, they’re outside,” Leslie whispered.

“Can we get out of the window?” Tommy glanced toward the broken frame and went to look outside. A skeletal hand reached for the window sill and he backed away with a cry of alarm. “Incoming! Get something to block it!”

They wedged the bed against it, leaning against the frame to keep it there.

“Man, this isn’t funny anymore. What if they get in?” Leslie grumbled. “We’re toast.”

“Maybe we’ll just have to hold out until morning.” Tommy settled down on the floor. “I know I’m not going anywhere.”

“What about Zalin? We can’t just leave him up there.” Becca paced the room.

“Well, if he can’t get out, that should mean they can’t get in. So he should be safe.” Tommy got up again. “I hate being a sitting duck.”

“Sitting wolf,” Leslie corrected him.

Gary came over and slid his arm around Tiffy’s shoulders. She looked at him with wide eyes. What had brought that on?

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” Tiffy suppressed a sigh. Gary was hugging her! He’d never even looked at her before.

“Arnie is an ass. He shouldn’t have said that. I’m really sorry.” Gary cuddled her closer.

“Thanks.” Ah bliss. Even if he just felt sorry for her, it felt good to be held by someone.

“So, any suggestions?”

“Not really. Other than getting Zalin out so we have an extra person to fight them if we have to.” Tiffy listened for a moment. “Do you think they’re gone?”

“Don’t hear anything.” He withdrew and turned to the others, making her feel alone again. “Guys, I think it’s clear outside. We should try to get the Alpha out.”

Becca and Leslie voiced their agreement and together they shifted the wardrobe. Tommy opened the door and peeked outside. “Clear.”

“Cool, let’s go.” Gary headed outside.

They’d just reached the attic door, when a shuffling noise drew their attention. Six zombies came stalking up the stairs.

“Arrrr!”

“Brainssss!”

“Hoooooomaaaannnn!”

“Fuck that,” Arnie wailed, shifted to wolf form, and bolted down the stairs -- out of the building.

Gary kicked the first zombie and sent it flying down the stairs. Tiffy and Becca tackled another, while Tommy and Leslie went for a third.

They managed to drop all three, but the other three still advanced on them.

“Form a line! Kick them down!” Gary hooked his arm into Tiffy’s, who in turn linked hers with Becca. Once all of them had a grip on each other, they slammed their feet into the oncoming zombies, pushing them down the stairs again.

“What’s going on out there?” Zalin asked through the door. “You guys safe?”

“We’re fine!” Tiffy called out, kicking another zombie back. Four more came up the stairs from the ground floor. “Man, they’re all in here! How’d they get in?”

Together they fought hard, kicking and punching when the zombies advanced, until Tommy hit one of the creatures and pulled off a layer of skin.

“Ewww!” Tommy flung the skin to the side and went to punch the zombie again -- pausing before his fist connected with the face. “Dad?”

All of them turned to stare at the zombie, who was now laughing loudly, half of his face normal, half of it covered in some kind of prosthetic.

The other zombies stopped groaning and lumbering, and stood up, also laughing.

“Zalin, come out, they made us!” Tommy’s father called out.

Behind them the door opened and a grinning Zalin stood there, a set of controls in his hand. He pressed a button and the doors slammed. “Had you going, didn’t we?”

“Oh man…” Leslie groaned. “It was all fake?”

“You bastard!” Tiffy laughed and punched Zalin. “I was scared out of my brains!”

“Braaaaaaiiiiiiinnnnnnnzzzzzzz….” one of the pseudo-zombies moaned immediately, making grabbing motions.

Gary laughed so hard he almost fell down the stairs. “Awesome! That was just totally awesome!”

Becca grinned and hugged her father. “Sorry about kicking you in the face.”

“I’ve had worse.”

Zalin drew Tiffy back and winked at her. “More fun than begging for candy?”

“Hell yeah.” She grinned and hugged him. “Thanks for that. When did you do all this?”

“The others helped. Gary’s father rigged all the doors. I just had to sit tight and press buttons.”

“But there were zombies trying to get in through the windows? How--?”

“Mechanical levers with prosthetic devices on them. They look like crap in daylight, but they work at night. Mike’s idea.”

“Wow, you must have planned this for weeks!” Leslie said in wide eyed wonder.

“Months, actually. Zalin started working on it back in August.” Mike grinned broadly. “I dare say it worked. None of you suspected a thing.”

Gary came to stand beside Tiffy while everyone’s attention was diverted. “Hey.”

She smiled at him. “Hey.”

“Uh…listen, I was wondering…you wanna go see a movie some time?”

“With you?” Tiffy gaped at him. Was Gary asking her out?

“Well, yeah. We could have a burger after, or something.” Gary grinned sheepishly. “It’s okay if you don’t--”

“I’d love to.” Tiffy hugged him.

A date! Not only had she had the most amazing Halloween night -- courtesy of the most unlikely stand in for a dad -- but Gary had asked her out!

Life was good.

I will be giving away a copy of Howl to one lucky reader!

 Silke grew up in Germany and is used to things going bump in the night -- and it wasn't always the acrophobic cat, or someone hitting their head on a low beam on the ceiling.

She writes paranormal romance, usually at night, and blames Anne Stuart to this day for all her ambitions and strange stories, after reading one of her books.

These days the only thing going bump at "oh-dark-thirty" is her -- usually when she smacks into the sofa while creeping to the kitchen for another cup of coffee.

Silke likes to hear from her readers. Feel free to contact her via her blog at http://www.evilauthor.com, follow her on Twitter, look her up on Goodreads or become a friend on Facebook and G+.